Wasteland
by In the Garden
Summary: Zoisaito wants what he knows he can't have.


It was never something he had wanted, let alone intended. Outside his duties and his service to the prince, he did not want to want anything, but that did not stop his eyes from coming to rest too long and too often on broad shoulders, or his heart from racing at the approach of measured footsteps. Compared to this, Mercury's calm, coolly distant princess was a relief, an escape, and one he gladly took.

She did not _know_, but somehow they never spoke of Kuntsaito. It was a topic Zoisaito was grateful to avoid, though he could not completely avoid the man himself. On those days when they worked closely together, Zoisaito would seek her out afterwards. Sometimes they spoke of other things - she was fascinated by the diversity of life on his planet, and he, by the ingenuity of those inhabiting hers - and sometimes they remained silent, simply taking in the tranquil beauty of Queen Serenity's palace and grounds. She was a balm for his hurts, as cool and refreshing as a mountain stream, the very opposite of Kuntsaito's icy burn, that frozen stare that left him feverish and insensible.

It took Jedaito to make him see what he was doing to her.

"You've got to stop." Jedaito's voice was tight, only just reigning in a fury Zoisaito had never before seen aimed at him. It caught him unawares, and he froze, gaping at his friend from where he stood.

"I don't -"

Jedaito cut him off with a glare, practically stalking into his quarters. "You're leading her on, and it's hurting her, Zoisaito." There was no need to say who _she_ was; there was only one woman he could have possibly meant. "She's already delayed returning to her planet for you, and now Mars says she's thinking of canceling entirely. This isn't a game - you can't play with this woman!"

Zoisaito made no attempt to reply. His only defense was an even greater wrong, and he would not bring Kuntsaito into this. Jedaito read it in his eyes anyway.

He cursed, not bothering to control himself this time, and crossed the distance between them. Zoisaito didn't move when he raised his arm, though the backhand sent him reeling into his bookcase. This rage, this disgust, this was only what he deserved, and in a way, it was a blessing. It was easier to take than gentle Mercury's kindness, even when Jedaito wasn't satisfied with a single blow.

When he did finally leave, Zoisaito remained where he was, propped awkwardly against the bookcase. The silent accusations in his blue eyes had been worse than any of his strangled curses. Jedaito said many things he didn't mean, but his eyes screamed _Traitor!_ and Zoisaito had never known them to lie.

It took ages before he found the will to move, but he was not surprised when no one came to ask after him. Presumably, Jedaito had wasted no time in informing everyone of his secret, and Zoisaito could not blame him. He was too numb for emotions, as though the unexpected loss of his oldest friend had left him unable to truly feel anything beyond a mild regret that Mercury would find herself dirtied by her association with him.

At the sound of footsteps in the hall, Zoisaito half expected to find himself escorted to a waiting transport, certain that Queen Serenity would be eager to rid herself and her court of his deviance. The sight of Jedaito, however, brought with it a burst of pain and sorrow. Jedaito, who had been better than a brother for almost as long as he could remember, Jedaito, who burned fierce and bright and furious in his convictions no matter if he stood alone in them. Jedaito, who was the one man who could crumble Zoisaito's walls without even trying, because they'd never been intended to keep him out in the first place.

Zoisaito felt like he was a child again, at the sight of him, at his approach, at his uncertainty when he sat down next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. His blue eyes took in the swollen bruises on Zoisaito's face unflinchingly. He'd meant to give each one. And yet, he was here, meeting Zoisaito's uncertain gaze with the defiance and protectiveness he'd had when they were children.

"You stupid, stupid idiot," he said at last, his voice too rough for Zoisaito to read. But it was enough, because Jedaito said many things he didn't mean, and his eyes had never lied.

- -- --- -- -

**Author's Notes:** This was written for Day 19 of January's SM-Monthly Challenge at LiveJournal.


End file.
